


Nice Things

by TrueIllusion



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anxiety, Anxious David Rose, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon, Romantic Fluff, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23660092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueIllusion/pseuds/TrueIllusion
Summary: He’d seen it before, when David would lie awake next to him in bed, staring at the ceiling, his breath just slightly unsteady. The times when he likely thought Patrick was still sleeping, when Patrick would wrap an arm around David and tug him in close, holding him tight until he felt David’s breath even out into the more consistent rhythm of sleep, his body melting into Patrick’s as the unexplained tension that had been building inside him finally dissolved.Usually, that was all it was -- a few minutes of David lying awake in bed, unable to sleep thanks to some unknown demon conjuring up disquieting scenarios inside his head. Patrick would hold him until they both settled back into a sound sleep, and that was that. But sometime after the wedding, it changed, and it started to include David getting out of bed and spending an hour or two on the couch, curled up with a blanket and a cup of quietly-prepared tea, staring out the window into the darkness.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 32
Kudos: 255





	Nice Things

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to PrettyTheWorld for beta reading this story for me and helping me brainstorm a little! I hope you all enjoy. <3

Patrick had long ago memorized every inch of David Rose. His mannerisms. His habits. The adorable way one side of his mouth would quirk up into a shy grin when he was pleased. The way his cheeks would flush just a little when Patrick gave him a compliment. The way he looked everywhere but Patrick’s eyes when he was telling a little white lie that he thought was for Patrick’s own benefit. The way he fiddled with his rings when he needed a distraction. The way he chewed his bottom lip when he was deep in thought. The way his face would light up when he laughed -- a genuine laugh, not the nervous one that Patrick wished he could somehow strike from David’s repertoire, if only because he didn’t like to see David anxious and unsure. He much preferred the confident David -- the one who’d acted annoyed when he'd pressed for more details about his plans for the general-but-very-specific store. The one who’d carried him piggyback up a mountain trail to Rattlesnake Point and managed to save a proposal that Patrick had been sure was ruined. But _all_ of those things -- his occasional shyness, spot-on intuition, bright flamboyance, restless jitters, and the innate need to protect the people he loved -- they were all a part of David.

Without those qualities, he simply wouldn’t be the man Patrick fell in love with mere seconds after meeting him, and the man he took vows to love and protect, to honor and cherish, three weeks before. (Well, actually he’d sung the chorus to one of David’s favorite Mariah Carey songs, but still, the intent was the same.) But that didn’t mean that Patrick didn’t also sometimes wish that the parts of David that ate him from the inside out would give him a break. That the endless string of intrusive thoughts that would pop up occasionally and run on repeat through David’s head for hours -- or sometimes days -- would let up.

He’d seen it before, when David would lie awake next to him in bed, staring at the ceiling, his breath just slightly unsteady. The times when he likely thought Patrick was still sleeping, when Patrick would wrap an arm around David and tug him in close, holding him tight until he felt David’s breath even out into the more consistent rhythm of sleep, his body melting into Patrick’s as the unexplained tension that had been building inside him finally dissolved.

Usually, that was all it was -- a few minutes of David lying awake in bed, unable to sleep thanks to some unknown demon conjuring up disquieting scenarios inside his head. Patrick would hold him until they both settled back into a sound sleep, and that was that. But sometime after the wedding, it changed, and it started to include David getting out of bed and spending an hour or two on the couch, curled up with a blanket and a cup of quietly-prepared tea, staring out the window into the darkness.

The first time Patrick woke up alone in the middle of the night, his immediate impulse was to get up as well, to talk to David. To ask him what was wrong. To try to comfort his partner -- his _husband_ \-- and coax him back into bed where they could cuddle and Patrick could hold him close until whatever was tormenting him loosened its hold and let him rest once again. But David had sent him back to bed almost immediately, insisting he was fine, and that he just couldn’t sleep. That nothing was wrong. That he’d be back to bed soon, as soon as he finished his tea. And he kept his promise, coming back to bed twenty minutes later, although it was well over an hour before Patrick felt David’s body finally relax.

It happened again the next two nights, with Patrick noticing David’s absence when he tried to snuggle up to him -- David was always the little spoon, despite their height difference -- and instead found a twisted pile of blankets and sheets in his partner’s place. David was sitting on the couch, a blanket draped over his shoulders and both hands wrapped around a steaming mug. He was staring out the window at nothing, clearly lost in his own little world. And both times, Patrick decided to let David have his undisturbed quiet; to let him try to work through whatever was happening inside his head on his own, without distraction, the way he apparently wanted to.

The next few nights were good, with David spending the entire night safely nestled in Patrick’s arms, resting comfortably. Patrick assumed that whatever David had been thinking about had been resolved, that he’d figured it out and was now able to let it go. But the night before they were scheduled to close on the house of David’s dreams, Patrick woke up alone again, this time while David was still making the tea.

“Everything okay?” Patrick asked, propping himself up on one elbow so he was facing his apartment’s tiny kitchen, where David was standing in front of the counter, his shoulders and back obviously tense as he stared down into the mug he was stirring honey into.

The spoon clinked suddenly against the side of the glass as David’s shoulders somehow jumped even further up toward his ears.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

David let out a shaky breath. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice so soft that Patrick barely heard him. “I’m okay.”

“Couldn’t sleep?”

David shook his head and swallowed hard. “Sorry if I woke you. You should go back to sleep. At least one of us needs to be well rested in the morning.”

“Are you sure you--”

“I’m fine.” David’s voice was a little stronger this time, though his uneasy, higher-than-normal tone still didn’t exactly lend itself to the words he’d spoken. “Go back to sleep.”

“David, I--”

“Really.” David turned and smiled at Patrick -- a tight smile that wasn’t at all convincing -- before he continued. “I’m okay. I’m just going to sit for a few minutes, maybe read a little… try to get tired again.”

Patrick didn’t want to relent, but he could see in the set of David’s jaw and shoulders that there would be no arguing with him tonight; that all he’d end up doing if he tried was causing a fight, and that was something he didn’t want. Particularly not with David already on-edge.

There were any number of things that could have been at the root of whatever was bothering David. Maybe missing his parents, who had left for California the day after the wedding, or Alexis, who had gone to New York a few days later. Or maybe fretting about how he was going to make their little English cottage into the picture-perfect vision he’d been building up inside his head ever since the day he’d driven Patrick out there to tell him he’d made an offer and the owners had accepted. Hell, knowing David, it could have even been something as seemingly simple as what colors of hats, scarves, and mittens he wanted to carry in the store for the upcoming holiday season. So Patrick stayed in bed and let David have his moment of solitude, regardless of how much it pained him to not be able to wrap his arms around his partner and assure him that, no matter what was bothering him, everything would be okay. That he was there for David, if David ever wanted or needed to talk. About anything. Even the scarves.

Patrick rolled over onto his back, closing his eyes and trying to force himself back into sleep as he listened to David moving around the apartment -- his soft footfalls as he made his way to the couch, the dull thunk when he set his mug down on the coffee table, and the sound of the hand-knitted afghan Patrick’s mother had made them as a wedding gift sliding off the back of the couch as David wrapped it around his shoulders. Patrick managed to lie there quietly for a while, still trying to convince himself that David would let him know if he needed him and finding that task more difficult with each passing minute.

Patrick was inching ever closer to losing the battle when he heard a soft voice coming from across the apartment.

“I think I want to talk.”

Patrick tried to play it cool as he rolled onto his side again, this time meeting David’s steady, yet incredibly unsure, gaze. He tried to act like he _hadn’t_ been lying awake, hoping David would utter those six exact words or something like them, so he could have the opportunity to fix whatever was bothering him. Presuming it was something that could be fixed.

“Oh,” David breathed, sounding almost disappointed. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah.” Patrick pushed himself up into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to look like he might have been sleeping. “What’s up?”

“Forget it, I… Sorry I woke you.”

Patrick swung his legs over the side of the bed and walked the few steps to the couch, settling down next to David. He could practically feel the tension radiating off of David’s body, so he hoped he could actually get him to talk this time. David looked away, chewing the inside of his bottom lip as he took in a few less-than-steady breaths.

“What is it?” Patrick asked, keeping his voice gentle as he reached out and laid a hand on David’s knee. “What do you need to talk about?”

David let out a rough exhale before he turned toward Patrick again, still not quite making full eye contact. “It’s stupid.”

“If it’s got you this upset, it’s not stupid. Whatever it is.”

David took another deep breath and let it out slowly, this time raising his gaze to meet Patrick’s. His eyes were shining with unshed tears that he tried to blink away before he spoke. “I just keep wondering when all of this is going to end.”

“What?”

“All of this… Everything’s been so… good. The wedding, moving in here… I mean, the wedding didn’t exactly go according to plan, but somehow it still ended up perfect. And now I’m here, with you. And everything’s good at the store, and with Mom and Dad, and with Alexis…”

“I’m not seeing the problem here.”

“It’s just... What if… What if it all comes crashing down? What if the bank decides not to give us the mortgage after all? What if the house really isn’t perfect and it’s actually a money pit that’s going to bankrupt us and force us to sell the store to get out of debt? What if I don’t deserve to have nice things anymore?” David inhaled another shaky breath and looked away again. “What if you’re one of those things?”

“What?” Patrick thought he must have misunderstood; he’d barely been able to hear the last thing David said, so surely it wasn’t right. Surely David wasn’t wondering if Patrick was going to leave him? Patrick curled his fingers around David’s hand, which was resting on his thigh, fingers picking absently at his pajama bottoms.

“I told you it was stupid. But I can’t get it out of my head. And, I guess I figured, since this is our last night here… that I should probably just say it, so you can know exactly what you’re getting into. That maybe I should... communicate. Since that’s what you’re supposed to do… in a relationship.”

“It is.” Patrick smiled as he tightened his grip on David’s hand, hoping it would have the grounding effect he intended. “I’m glad you told me. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you--”

“David.” Patrick cut him off, really not wanting to hear whatever would have come next -- what Patrick was “supposed” to want to do, that he was sure was nothing like what he would ever actually _want_ to do.

“What?” David’s voice was small and shaky, and he was chewing at his lip again.

“I meant what I said on our wedding day. All of it. And no matter what happens -- if the mortgage falls through, if the house falls apart, if the store goes bankrupt, if we lose everything -- I will be here, and we’ll get through it together.” 

“You say that now but--”

“I’ll say it always.” Patrick wrapped his arms around David’s shoulders and pulled their bodies closer, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Because I love you. And because I’ll never get my investment back out of the business if I leave you now.”

David turned his head to give Patrick an incredulous look, which Patrick met with a wry grin.

“I mean it, David. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here, with you. Now and forever, no matter what happens, and no matter where we end up. Because you’re _my_ happy ending.”

David laughed wetly, the corners of his own lips turning up into a tiny smile that made Patrick’s heart skip a beat and probably always would. “If you’re sure.”

“Still the easiest decision of my life.” Patrick tightened his arms around David’s shoulders and kissed him, long and slow, hoping it was clear just how sure he was that David was the one for him. The one who made everything feel right. “C’mon, let’s go back to bed. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“Okay,” David whispered, nodding as Patrick took his hand and pulled him to his feet.

The mug of tea was forgotten on the coffee table, and the afghan was draped haphazardly over the arm of the couch, but in Patrick’s world, everything was perfect, because he had David in his arms. The love of his life. The man he’d gladly share everything with, forever, no matter how much or how little that was. The man who had shown him a happiness and contentment that he hadn’t known existed before.

David was the only person Patrick could imagine wanting to make a home with. And in just a few short hours, they would do just that. It was all still a little unbelievable, not because Patrick didn’t think he deserved it, but because he couldn’t believe the way everything in his life had simply fallen into place after he’d moved to Schitt’s Creek.

As David’s breathing evened out and his body relaxed into sleep, Patrick knew with one hundred percent certainty that, no matter where life took the two of them, this place -- this small town in the middle of nowhere -- would always be home. And that as long as they had each other, they’d have everything they needed.

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to know what you thought! <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Nice Things (by TrueIllusion)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26253199) by [fairmanor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairmanor/pseuds/fairmanor)




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